Barbarian's Heart: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 10)

by Ruby Dixon

  Oh, the fuck word again. She is very angry. Perhaps that was a mistake. I shrug, trying to play my actions off. “I cannot help myself. I am fascinated by your lack of a tail.”

  Her expression changes, softening. She swipes angrily at her cheeks. “I’m very mad at you right now. Don’t even try to be cute.”

  Am I being cute? She starts to walk away again, and I follow her. “Tell me why you are angry, Stay-see.”

  She ignores me, still trying to push past.

  “Will you not speak to me?” I entreat again. “Tell me what I did wrong so I may fix it?”

  “I don’t want to talk right now,” Stay-see says, a husky note in her throat, as if she is about to start crying again.

  It tears at me, her unhappiness. It also frustrates me, because how can I know how to fix what I am doing wrong if she never tells me? Is she trying to push me away? To make me seek out another mate? So she can be with someone else…

  Someone like Harrec?

  Jealousy gnaws at me, hard and brutal in its intensity. “It will not work,” I declare, suddenly furious. “I will wait for you.”

  She spins around again. “Wait for me? What are you talking about?”

  “You will not invite me to your bed. You will not let me be your mate. You push me away. It does not matter.” I make a slashing motion in the air with my hands. “You wait for my memories to come back, but they do not change who I am. They do not change that I am the mate that loves you. They do not change how I feel when I look at you.”

  Stay-see stares at me. “And how do you feel when you look at me?”

  I move toward her. The urge to touch her is overwhelming. I want to caress her face, stroke her hair. My fingers twitch in response, and I clench my hand tight, pressing it over my heart. “Like I am not whole unless you smile. Like the suns rise when you move closer. Like there is nothing sweeter than touching you and hearing your moans of pleasure.” At her hesitant smile, I continue. “I do not need memories to feel joy when I see you holding my son. I do not need memories to know that there is no greater feeling than sinking my cock deep inside you. I do not need anything in this world but your smile and your heart, Stay-see. And that is why I will wait until you invite me back. If it takes twenty seasons, I will wait.”

  She gives a small, confused shake of her head. “I don’t understand you. If you love me as much as you say you do, why did you leave me and Pacy the moment we got to the village?”

  “Because you told me to?” Now I am as confused as her. “You said you were not ready to take me back as your mate. Not until I had my memories back.” I give a small shake of my head. “Stay-see, I would never push you into something you did not want. I can wait.”

  She presses her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I’m so stupid.”

  “You are not stupid. You are wonderful—”

  She flings herself into my arms and clings to my neck. Her mouth seeks mine, and I toss aside the nest with the frozen eggs in it to grab my mate’s rounded bottom. I haul her against me and hold her close as we kiss, our tongues melding together.

  “Does this mean you will take me as your mate again?” I ask between fierce, nipping kisses.

  She nods quickly and kisses me again, then bites at my lower lip in a way that makes my cock ache. “Thought you didn’t want me. That was why you left.”

  I groan. “If I did not want you, why would it make me so crazy every time Harrec pays attention to you?” I tear at her tunic, at the knot under her breasts that holds it wrapped shut.

  To my surprise, she laughs. “He said he was trying to make you jealous. I couldn’t figure out why. I guess he wants us back together, too.” She leans in and runs the tip of her tongue along my lower lip. “That’s kind of sweet.”

  “As long as that is all he wants,” I growl, feeling possessive. This is my female. My mate. And I’ve waited long enough to claim her again. I kiss her deeply even as I pull her tunic open.

  She gasps against me, peeking around. “The others—someone will see us.”

  “You went the wrong way to get back to the vee-lage,” I tell her, pressing my mouth to her neck. She is so soft here, so sweet. “Make enough noise and they will know to stay away.”

  Her shocked giggle tells me that she is not displeased with the thought. I slide my hand between the layers of clothing and find her breast, plump and delicious. She moans at my touch, and her kisses take on a more fevered edge.

  I am going to make her mine, right here, right on the canyon floor.

  I like the idea so much that I immediately drop to my knees. Stay-see squeaks in surprise but does not protest when I pull her down with me. I continue kissing her bared skin, feverishly undoing the ties on her leggings, and then mine.

  “Right here?” she asks softly.

  “Right here,” I agree. “I have waited endless days for you. I am hungry to be inside you. For us to become one again.”

  Her hand strokes my face. “Me, too.”

  My mouth is on hers in the next moment, my tongue slicking against her smooth, soft one. Everything about my mate is soft and gentle and it fills me with a fierce protectiveness as well as hunger.

  In the next moment, her leggings are down, and her freed leg hooks around my hip. I sink into her warmth, marveling at how perfect, how incredible she feels.

  Stay-see gasps, her eyes going wide. She feels tight around my cock, her cunt slick with heat and ready for me. “My mate,” I growl fiercely. “My Stay-see.”

  “Yours.” She trembles under me, tearing at my clothing as if desperate to touch my skin. “All yours!”

  I thrust into her again, my cock buried deep inside her, my spur sliding along her folds. She cries out as I do, and I lean down to give her another claiming kiss. “I am going to take you hard, my mate,” I tell her. “Hard and fast.”

  She nods, eager.

  I stroke into her once more and begin to pump with quick, decisive movements. It is as if her permission has freed me, it has also stolen my control. Over and over, I pound into her, Stay-see’s little cries fueling me. I claim her with swift ferocity, and when her cunt begins to clench hard around my cock, I feel a near brutal satisfaction as she cries out her pleasure.

  Mine comes but moments later.

  Afterward, she caresses my face with her small hands and cold fingers, as if marveling at what we have just done. A happy smile plays on her mouth, and I press a kiss to her bountiful breasts, feeling lazy and content. Her hands move to my mane and she plays with my hair, then touches my broken horn. “You’re sure the fall earlier did not hurt you?”

  “Not at all. I am sorry it frightened you, though.”

  “I just thought…I thought it was happening all over again.” She shudders underneath me. “That I was going to lose you once more.”

  “Never. You will never be rid of me.” I wrap my arms tightly around her torso. “Every day I will bury myself so deeply inside you that your khui will send its regards.”

  She chuckles, her fingertips grazing over my brows. “As long as you are in my furs every night, that is fine with me.”

  “Every night,” I agree. I slide my hand under her bottom and stroke the pale curve of flesh. “No tail here,” I murmur, patting her backside.

  Stay-see stills under me. “You…did you remember?”

  “Remember what?” I look up at her.

  A flash of disappointment crosses her face, but is quickly gone. “Nothing. I guess it’s not important after all.”

  “I did remember something earlier,” I tell her. “That you used the word ‘fuck’ when Pacy was being born. And that you did not tell me of this when you shared the story of his birth.”

  Her smile widens. “It wasn’t my most ladylike moment. You really remembered that?”

  I nod. “I did. I think the memories will come back in time, if you are patient with me.”

  “Of course,” she says, and touches m
y mouth with her soft little fingertips. “You and I are forever.”

  I like the sound of that very much. “I agree.”

  She gives a contented sigh. “And I wish we could stay right here, like this, forever.”

  I squeeze her bottom again. “I would wish that, too, my mate, except you need to make your mate and your son an egg.”

  “An egg?” Her brows draw together. Then she sits up so quickly that her head almost bangs into mine. “Oh my god. You saved the eggs?”

  “They are frozen and the shells are hard,” I tell her, rolling off of her soft body. I lie on my back and tie my breeches, tucking my cock back into my clothing. “I have two of them for you.”

  Her squeal of delight warms me down to my toes.

  Epilogue

  STACY

  Two months later

  “Da da da da!” Pacy bounces on his hands and knees, tail flicking. Across the room, my mate sits on the floor, cross-legged. He waves his fingers at his son, indicating he should come forward.

  “You can do it, Pacy,” Pashov calls out. “Come to Da Da.” He uses the English word—or a bastardized version of it—since Pacy seems to be able to say that easier than the sa-khui ‘father,’ which has a lot of swallowed syllables.

  The baby plants one foot on the ground, then the other, his bottom wiggling in the air. Then he stands upright. I stir my egg while it slow roasts on the fire. After endless experimenting, I’ve figured out the best way to cook the frozen dirtbeak eggs: crack open the top and let it scramble in its own shell, occasionally stirring it. It makes a mountain of perfect, delicious scrambled eggs that go amazingly well with a bit of not-potato and is my favorite go-to meal when I’m tired of dried meat. Pashov has taken to eating the eggs, too, but he prefers his as more of an omelet peppered with chunks of meat and roots. They’ve helped save my sanity so far in the brutal season, when there’s plenty to eat, but most of it is dried, smoked meat. The hunters filled our storage coffers as much as possible before the weather got bad, and the women harvested a lot of not-potato, and now we’re just riding out the blizzards above, snug in our little nook in the ground below. I have an entire storage area full of frozen eggs, and we’re all being extremely careful to make them last. We should be good through the brutal season after all, and the men only go out to hunt on the days that it’s not pouring snow. Since most days are so cold that it hurts to breathe and the skies are so dark they look like a bruise, the hunters stay home with us a lot of the time.

  And while the food’s a bit monotonous, I don’t mind it because I enjoy having Pashov around all day. He gets to spend quality time with his son—like right now.

  Pacy stretches out his little arms and wobbles forward on one foot, then the other.

  I hold my breath. “Is he—”

  “He has it,” Pashov says proudly, and gestures for Pacy to come forward. “You can do it, little one.”

  “Da da!” Pacy says, staggering forward. He only makes it a few steps before he falls into Pashov’s arms, but my mate laughs and catches him, then tosses him into the air as if my son has made the greatest accomplishment ever.

  “Did you see that?” Pashov asks me between Pacy’s peals of laughter. “Three steps this time.”

  “He’ll be running up and down the streets soon,” I say with pride in my voice. My little son is so smart. I don’t know a lot about babies, but it seems to me he’s always just a little ahead of the other kits in the tribe. Or maybe that’s just my mommy-side speaking. Whatever it is, I’m proud of my clever little Pacy.

  Pashov grins over at me and gently sets Pacy back down. The baby immediately tries to get on his feet again, reaching for his father.

  “You’d better hurry up and eat,” I admonish him as I use a pair of bone tongs to take the egg off the fire. “Josie will be here soon and she’s been having pregnancy cravings for eggs.”

  “You can cook her up another,” my mate says lazily, scooping up my son and shooting me a heated look that tells me breakfast isn’t the only thing on his mind right now. He carries Pacy over to the playpen Hemalo recently made for him—a series of privacy screens interlocked together to make a safe area for him to play—and comes to my side. He nuzzles at my neck and his hands slide over my ass.

  “Frisky this morning,” I tease, breathless. I’m feeling it, too.

  “I am just imagining how my mate will react when she sees the gift I have for her,” he teases, nipping at my ear and sending skitters of pleasure through my body.

  “Gift? But the holiday’s not until next month.” We’ve already talked a bit about it as a tribe, and last year it broke up the brutal season so delightfully well that Claire’s already planning out days and days of activities to keep things exciting through the long snowy weeks.

  “I know. But I cannot wait any longer for you to have it.”

  “But your food—”

  “It can wait.”

  My eyes go wide at that. It’s not like my walking, talking stomach of a mate to push aside food. “This must be good, then.”

  “Oh, it is.” He gives my butt one last caress and heads over to the far side of our little house, where the rolled up furs are waiting for curing. Curious, I watch as he digs through the bundles and pulls out something flat and wrapped in leather. He turns around and holds it out to me, a smile on his face.

  I’m touched that he’s so thoughtful, and I can’t stop grinning. A present feels like such a treat, especially since we’re all being so careful with goods after losing almost everything to the cave-in. Even months later, ‘making do’ has become the new normal. But we’ll survive it, because we always do, and we’ll eventually replenish everything we lost. “Are you sure?” I ask shyly, taking the leather-wrapped object from him. “I don’t have anything to give you.” I’m making him a soft, fur-lined tunic on the sly, but it won’t be ready until the holiday.

  “Just having you as my mate is gift enough,” he says, and cups my face to give me a kiss.

  “Aww, that is sweet. You’re totally getting laid later,” I tease, and my thrumming khui seems to agree. I pull the leather off of it, and I gasp in surprise.

  It’s a skillet. It’s not quite the same as the one I had before, but it’s made similarly. It has a bone handle attached to a square piece of metal salvaged from the ship, with the sides bent upward to form a lip. The handle on my old skillet had been soldered, but this one is interlocking, with a bit of leather tied around to keep it in place.

  “Do you like it?” Pashov asks. “Har-loh says we will have to change out the handle and the leather thong every few turns of the moon, but I thought it a small price to pay to get it for you again.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I say dreamily, running my hand over the surface. “And it’s going to make cooking so much easier again.” I give him a happy look. “You remembered?”

  He nods, the expression on his face shy. “It is another memory that came back. Once I had it, I wanted to ask Har-loh about getting you another. I was lucky she had a few pieces of metal left.”

  “You’re wonderful,” I tell him. I’m truly touched—not just because it’s the most thoughtful, perfect gift ever, but because more of his memories are creeping back. He’s sensitive about them, because I know that he’s frustrated it’s taking more time than he wanted, but we’re together and happy, and his nightmares have stopped now that we sleep in the furs together every night. I don’t mind waiting a little longer for the last of his memories. And if he never gets them back, I don’t even care anymore.

  I have my Pashov. That’s all that matters.

  “I wanted to make my mate happy,” he says simply.

  “You do. Every day, you do.” I set it down on my stool and move forward to put my arms around his neck. My khui’s purring furiously and I’m feeling more than a little turned on—and it’s not just because of the gift. It’s because he’s so thoughtful and wonderful and utterly sexy and I love the way he looks at me.

  He pulls me ag
ainst him, and I can feel my breasts bounce when my body hits his. His khui is loud, too, and I reach between us to caress his cock. It’s hard as a rock already, even through the leather of his breechcloth. “I see someone’s been thinking long and hard about his reward for making his mate so happy,” I say playfully, my voice a throaty purr.

  “I cannot help it. You are irresistible to me.” He leans down and grazes his mouth over mine in a gentle kiss. “Shall I see if Asha can watch our son for a time and give us some privacy?”

  “So I can show you how much I like your skillet?”

  His eyes gleam. “Yes.”

  “By…making you eggs?”

  His mouth curves into a wicked smile. “Only if you allow me to eat them off of your stomach.”

  “You strange, kinky man,” I say with a laugh. “It’s open for negotiation.”

  He leans in to kiss me again, and suddenly…I feel it.

  Resonance.

  The loud, pleasant hum of my khui changes tone, becomes louder, more insistent. His sings loudly to mine, the joined song so loud it feels as if it’s filling our small little house and shaking my body.

  I gasp, clinging to him. “Resonance! Again?”

  “Again,” he says happily, and claims my mouth in a ravenous kiss.

  And oh god, it feels as if my face is going to melt off from the fury of that kiss. It’s wicked and delicious and so deep and wet that I can feel my entire body turning into an inferno. I know what to expect from resonance now that it’s the second time around, but time hasn’t dampened the feeling. The ache between my legs is insistent and intense, and my nipples feel like tight, aching little buds that are just begging to be licked for a few hours.

  Pashov groans as he kisses me. “You. Are. Incredible.” Each word is punctuated with another heated kiss. “We will have another kit,” he marvels. “A daughter this time. One that looks like you.”

  I laugh, rubbing his cock through his breeches, because I can’t help myself. “Or another son. I’m fine with either as long as it’s healthy.”